Nobody Does It Better
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Sam misses Dean, Dean misses Sam. Dean pays Sam a visit at Stanford and naturally, the reunion is joyous.
1. Chapter 1

College wasn't quite all Sam had thought it was going to be.

After having moved around literally his entire life on such a frequent basis, never staying in one place for more than a few months, the concept of having a single place to live in and not have to worry about getting kicked out the next morning was, needless to say, a bit foreign to Sam. It wasn't that he hadn't dreamt of it often – he had done so since he was old enough to realize the life that he led wasn't normal – but the reality of it was jarring at first. He had a regular roof over his head, not some third rate motel or truck stop, food that was hot and nutritious, not soup heated in a faulty microwave or a greasy burger bought from some hole in the wall restaurant in a no name town, and a relatively comfortable bed in the suite that he shared with three other guys.

It was all well and good but Sam knew that deep down something was very, very wrong.

Dean wasn't there.

Sam was nearly finished with his freshman year of college, just a week or so of exams left to get through. He had done well academically this year, not even missing a day of classes. He had even built up a relatively close circle of friends, strangers to each other at first just like he was. They were mostly other prelaw and history majors (Sam was considering minoring) and didn't question his background, simply accepting Sam for him, not where he came from. There was this girl, Jess, that he thought he felt something more than friendship towards, but he knew in his heart of hearts that it wasn't meant to be – he was hooked on Dean forever, and he knew it.

The problem was that he hadn't spoken to Dean in eight months. Eight months without so much as sending him a text message to see how he was doing, and Dean hadn't done the same for him either. Sam didn't know if Dean was still mad at him or not, didn't know if Dean even wanted a damn thing to do with him anymore. It twisted like a knife in his guts every time he woke up in the morning, guilt hanging over him like a cloud every moment of the day. He tried to put on a brave face, tried to show his friends and the rest of the world that he was okay, he was going to be fine. However, he couldn't keep the melancholy look off of his face all the time, and he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't cry himself to sleep at least once a week. Dean would be ashamed of him, he knew it, shedding tears like that on such a regular basis.

Sam sighed, pushing back his hair, silently musing to himself that he probably needed to get a haircut. When it was just he and Dean for long periods of time, John gone for the better part of a month or two at a time, Dean would let him grow it out, loved to run his fingers through it after he and Sam had sex. Dean had told him more than once that he had better hair than any girl he'd been with, which normally served to just make Sam jealous and fuck Dean harder. Sam knew in his heart of hearts that Dean only loved him – any sex that either one of them had outside of each other (Sam hadn't been celibate since coming to college, hooking up with guys and girls alike) was just that – sex. After all, he was still a horny teenager (he would be twenty in November.) Dean always came back to him. Even after he and Dean had started their relationship as more than brothers, neither had said anything about being exclusive – but nine out of every ten times Dean had wanted sex, it had been Sam he'd come to, and it'd been Sam's arms he'd gladly woken up in after all of those times, not someone else's.

Or he had anyway, before Sam left him for some degree of normalcy in his life. He was starting to think that it wasn't worth it, because he missed Dean so much that it hurt. Sam sighed and rested his forehead in his hands, noticing the late hour on his alarm clock – he had been studying for his Ancient Law test for nearly six solid hours, and he was hungry. Luckily, there was an all night burger place just down the block from his dorm, and a chocolate milkshake and a cheeseburger would at least alleviate some of the physical discomfort he felt at the moment.

He stood, stretching languorously and shut his laptop and textbooks, forgoing a jacket since it was nearly May and Palo Alto wasn't exactly cold at this time of year. The air outside was warm, a slight breeze ruffling his air as he walked with his hands in his pockets, thinking about Dean and the stupid grin he got on his face when he ate a good burger, sucking the meat juice and ketchup off of his fingers as he bit into it. Sam felt a twinge of arousal as he thought about Dean sucking on his fingers and licking them clean – how many burger joints had he and Dean gone to where he'd wound up with Dean's foot in his crotch as he made the most pornographic sounds imaginable for a piece of meat stuck between two slices of bread? A lot, Sam mused, a rush of memories flooding his mind and turning down the corners of his mouth even further.

There were only a couple people in the small restaurant, both students with their heads buried in textbooks, absently eating fries and turning the pages with fingers half-heartedly wiped on brown paper napkins. Dean hated those, said that they fell apart way too easily to enjoy a hamburger properly. Sam smiled to himself, missing the pickle-tinged kisses Dean would give him afterwards, full and happy. He stepped up to the counter where the waitress, a pleasant looking girl named Ashley gave him a tired smile and asked what he would like. Sam ordered a cheeseburger, waffle fries, and a chocolate milkshake, getting all of it to go. He perched himself on a barstool, waiting.

Sam thought about what he had to look forward to over the next few weeks – he was going to be taking summer classes, intent on doing as much as he could to graduate early and get into law school. Some of his friends lived in San Francisco, and he could certainly go and visit them if he wanted. For the most part though he'd be working in the campus library and studying, fighting feelings of wanting Dean back.

He wasn't looking forward to it, and there was only one way to fix it.

Sam pulled out his phone, checking for messages. There were none, so he closed and opened his contacts menu five times before bothering to scroll down to Dean's name, which he still hadn't erased the heart emoticon that was next to him – so what, he loved Dean like that. Sam's finger was still hovering over the call button when Ashley brought him his food and set it on the counter before him, wishing him a good night. Sam made a non-committal sound of thanks and picked up the bag, shoving the phone back in his pocket. He was afraid, afraid that Dean wouldn't answer, wouldn't respond in anyway.

Sam sighed and walked back to his building as fast as he could, suddenly emotional again. He got back to his room, small but private and began to eat, not tasting the burger (which any other day would have been delicious but his taste buds weren't working right now) and sighing, the smell of leather and gunpowder in his nose, a smell memorized and burned into his brain after so many nights of Dean holding him close, his arms wrapped around Sam's back as he made slow, sweet love to him. Those were the best ones, between hunts and when John would get two rooms, saying that he needed a warm body for the night. It meant more time for them, time for them to explore each other's bodies, time to let Sam know just how much Dean meant to him, how much that this wonderful, crazy thing between them meant to him.

Sam missed it more than anything in the world, and he'd shoved it away, the only truly good thing in his life. He finished the fries and took two sips of the milkshake before going and putting it in the suite's refrigerator, adding a cursory "do not touch" note to the Styrofoam cup with a black Sharpie. He padded back to his room, closing and locking the door and flopping down on the bed, silently wandering what the hell he was going to do next. He lay there for a long while, staring up at the ceiling, one arm behind his head and the other laying across his stomach, images of Dean flashing over and over again in his mind, Dean naked, Dean shooting a gun, Dean smiling down at him, just Dean over and over again. Sam shut his eyes, shaking his head and wanting, wanting Dean's touch and smell and everything – even the incredibly lame but endearing pop culture references that he made on a far too frequent basis.

Sam found that thinking about Dean naked had taken the spark of arousal he'd felt at the restaurant and fanned it into a fire, slowly spreading through his lower body. He felt his cock fill, straining against the leg of his boxer briefs. Sam let out a long breath, his fingers trailing over the outline of his cock, tight against the not so very loose jeans he was wearing. He had been so wrapped up in studying and thinking that he'd neglected his own body, keeping himself away from the release that was best when he thought of Dean, or when Dean was the one who was playing his body like an instrument, knowing precisely where and how to touch Sam to get him to come apart at the seams. It was that touch that Sam craved more than anything as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, his right hand sliding under his waist hand and the left going up under the front of his shirt, gently brushing and twisting over his left nipple.

Sam moaned, stroking his cock while thinking about Dean's. It was long, not overly so but just right, getting thicker towards the top and ending in a wide-flared, helmet shaped head. Dean's circumcision scar was a dark red in contrast to Sam's lighter pink one, a perfect band around the end of his cock that would nearly glow when he was aroused, blood moving under the skin, especially from Sam's touch. Dean would get really, really wet too, dripping more precome than some girls Sam had been with, especially when Sam would bite his ear and whisper filthy thing in Dean's ear – dirty talk was what got Dean going the fastest, and Sam was a fucking poet with it. One time he'd gotten Dean to come just from telling him how much he wanted to worship his body, not actually doing but saying where he wanted to stick his tongue and fingers, Dean moaning as Sam only touched him with his words.

Sam fixated on that and lifted his shirt over his head, toeing off his shoes and pulling his pants all the way off, leaving him in nothing but his socks. He looked down at his cock, thumb running over the head and smearing a fat drop of precome all over the pinkish-purple skin of his glans, a breathy "fuck" escaping his lips as he felt the not quite gone callus on his thumb rub over the tender flesh. The hand that was on his chest and toying with his nipple went to his mouth, wetting his middle and index fingers, sucking on them as he rubbed the head of his cock over and over again, working himself up until his whole body was taught with arousal, bucking his hips up off the bed and into the tightness of his fist, precome coating his fingers, the not quite smooth enough drag of his hand moving across his cock not enough, wanting Dean's sure fingers to wrap around his length and make him come.

Sam leaned over the edge of the bed and pawed through the bottom drawer of his nightstand, one hand still on his cock and stroking himself, slow movements that would keep him aroused as he searched. He felt around for a few more minutes before his fingers found what he was looking for. First he extracted the lube that he had splurged on (it was long lasting and felt pretty damn close to the real thing) and his dildo, bought two weeks after moving in because he simply couldn't live with being celibate forever, and dammit he was going to shove the closest shaped object to Dean's cock up his ass he could get his hands on if it was the last thing he did.

Of course, it was never going to be as good as the real thing.

Sam sucked the end of the dildo into his mouth, the synthetic flesh tasting faintly of sex toy cleaner and himself, the fake veins feeling almost real against the skin of his tongue, reminding him all too well of how the veins of Dean's cock would swell and bulge out when he was hard. Sam closed his eyes and sucked the dildo further into his mouth, opening his jaw and reaching down to stroke himself again, imagining Dean straddling his chest, his hands on the sides of Sam's head as he fucked Sam's mouth, saying low and rough how fucking sexy Sam looked taking his cock, wanting all of his come down his throat because he was a greedy little slut. Sam could almost hear it for real, the memory of Dean's voice loud and crystal clear in his head. Sam moaned around the fake cock in his mouth, his hips lifting up off the bed, seeking friction that simply wasn't there.

Sam pulled the dildo out of his mouth, watching the strands of his saliva come from the end of it. He set it aside for the moment and reached for the lube he'd placed on the nightstand, uncapping it carefully and pouring it over the toy, making sure it was good and coated. Sam had made the mistake once of not using enough lube and his ass had been sore for days. He shuddered at the memory, spreading his legs and circling a finger around the rim of his entrance, imagining Dean's fingers teasing at him before he entered him, his lips against Sam's and whispering about how good he was going to make it feel for him, how well he was going to take care of his Sammy. A swell of emotion ran through Sam, temporarily slowing the heady rush of hormones that was currently overwhelming him. God he missed him, missed him with every fiber of his being.

Sam finished spreading and pushing the lube into himself, feeling fairly satisfied that when he did this he wouldn't hurt himself. He moaned "Dean" as he held himself apart and slowly pushed the dildo in, the thick, too perfect to be human object filling him, cold but slowly being warmed by his body heat. He felt a tear of pleasure run down his left cheek, his eyes shut as he adjusted the dildo further, grabbing the base of it and slowly beginning to fuck himself with it, the other hand wrapped around his cock.

He thought of the last time Dean had fucked him, in the back seat of the Impala, Sam's fingernails digging into the hard flesh of Dean's back as the seat squeaked underneath them, tears rolling down both of their faces because they knew it was going to be the last time they did this for awhile, maybe the last time ever. Sam had looked deep into Dean's eyes, impossibly dark green and silently pleading please don't go, stay with me forever. Sam had wanted to say yes, had wanted to run away with Dean, leave the life behind and it just be the two of them, a promise that Sam wanted to hear him say but he knew it wouldn't be. Sam had screwed his eyes shut and told Dean to fuck him harder, their breath fogging the windows and rocking the car on its frame, Sam coming while yelling Dean's name at the top of his lungs.

Sam still carried that memory with him, how broken Dean had looked afterwards, clinging to Sam and saying "please" over and over again, his tears soaking the skin of Sam's chest. Sam wanted to chase the memory away, didn't want to remember the hurt in Dean's eyes – but he did, every second of those last hours together as clear as day in his mind. He sobbed half with pleasure, half with pain as he found his prostate over and over again with the dildo, speeding up and fucking himself faster, his breath coming out in pants, his eyes closed, seeing Dean, Dean's body, everything his older brother that he loved more than anyone else in the world.

There was a moment of time standing still right before he climaxed, Dean saying in his mind "Come for me Sam" and he did, come shooting out in long arcs all the way up his body, two bursts of it hitting his chin and open mouth, the sudden burst of his own flavor making him gasp and shudder with pleasure, his hand losing its rhythm as he continued to try to fuck himself, trying to keep a hold of that purity of pleasure that he had come to associate with Dean. He finally collapsed back to his bed, the mattress giving a groan of protest as Sam's weight settled back against it.

Sam licked his lips, tasting the come on his chin. He closed his eyes and made a sound of contentment, his lust sated for a little bit anyway. He extracted the dildo from his ass, dropping it to the bed next to him as he trailed his fingers through the mess of come on his stomach, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, imagining it was Dean's. Sam loved the taste of Dean's come, loved having it inside him. Dean would smear it around on his fucked out lips after Sam had blown him, his face full of awe from the fact that Sam was willing to give himself to Dean like this, hand gently cupping the side of Sam's face as he milked every last drop of come from Dean.

Sam gave his cock one more long stroke and then released it, sighing with a greater degree of content than he thought he would. He closed his eyes and thought about what the after sex would be like. Dean Winchester was not a cuddler – he swore on the grave of every monster he'd killed that he wasn't. Of course, Sam knew that was a complete and total lie. Dean would wrap his arms around Sam after sex, holding him close and running his fingers through Sam's hair. He had fallen asleep with his head on Dean's chest countless times and more often than not had woken up right there in the morning, safe in Dean's muscled arms.

Sam felt the come on his torso drying, knowing that if he didn't clean it up now then it would become sticky and itchy. He sat up, feeling some of it run down his body and down the length of his softening cock. He found the old pair of boxers that he used as a come rag and wiped himself down, dropping it back in the drawer and tugging on his boxer briefs, the urge to pee suddenly very strong. He stuck his head out his door, none of his roommates in the common area. He silently padded to the bathroom, pulling himself out and running a hand through his hair as he relieved himself, his body feeling warm and content. Even if Dean wasn't actually there, imagining it was still a lot better than not thinking about him at all.

Ten minutes later, teeth brushed and feeling sleepy, Sam tucked himself under the covers, his phone back in his hand. He flipped through his contacts again, this time feeling slightly more courage than when he'd tried to do this an hour ago. He got to Dean's number, pressing the call button and putting the phone to his ear. The other end rang and rang, no one picking up. He finally got to Dean's voicemail, a short message telling him to leave his name, number and nightmare. Sam's heart dropped at the sound of Dean's voice, a warm balm to his ears. The message tone sounded and Sam nearly forgot to speak, nearly forgetting to talk. "I know that you're the last person you probably want to hear from right now, so I'm going to do what you've always told me to do and be honest: Dean, I miss you. Plain and simple. I get it if you don't want to ever speak to me again… but I just wanted to let you know. If you…" Sam paused, regathering his courage "If you can make it to California, I'm gonna be here all summer. I…" Sam almost said "I love you" "And I hope that you're alright." Sam hung up and clutched his phone to his chest, his heart racing.

Hope was something that Sam was having a difficult time holding on to. He dreamt that night of green eyes crying, silent whispers of "please" echoing in his mind.

. . .

Dean was sitting on a motel bed in Omaha, Nebraska, an ice pack to the side of his face and a bottle of bourbon in his hand. A nasty ghost had given he and John a particularly rough time that afternoon, hitting Dean in the face with a thick tome that had come flying off a bookshelf. Dean had sworn that he was paying attention when John asked him what happened, saying he didn't know.

He'd been thinking about Sam, as he did for most of his waking hours.

He thought about what Sam would look like after not seeing him for eight months, his hair probably longer and his body more filled out from eating things other than gas station food. He'd probably grown a little more – he'd overtaken Dean in height at the age of fifteen and kept growing like a weed. Dean figured he'd still be straddling that awkward precipice between being a fully grown man and a still somewhat clumsy adolescent, having turned nineteen in November. Sam had been eighteen the last time Dean had seen or even spoken to him. The thought that he'd missed Sammy getting another year older tore him up on the inside, missed him becoming more of a man. Dean winced, and not just from the pain in his face. Guilt, anguish, those were what hurt worse than any physical damage done to his skin. Guilt that he hadn't been able to hold on to Sam, had let him walk out of his life after he'd given everything to Sam, nearly including his life to protect him. If his own loyalty to Sam was going to be his downfall, so be it.

Dean took another sip of bourbon and flipped on the TV, John having taken his truck and going on a supply run for the both of them, which most likely meant takeout and beer. Dean was sick of greasy Chinese food, missing the eggrolls that Sam had figured out how to make on summer, Sam in the middle of going from a sophomore to a junior in high school. He'd found the recipe online, saying that he wanted to try something new. It had been hot that day, a small town in Arkansas where John had left them and gone to track down a rugaru in the northern part of the state. He had found them an old house to squat in that by some miraculous stroke of good fortune had electricity and functional kitchen appliances. Of course, he and Sam had christened it properly as soon as John was out of sight, the wheels of the Impala kicking up dust behind him. All it had taken was Dean sliding his hands around Sam's waist and pulling him backwards into his body, kissing down his neck, the scent of sweat and sunflowers on Sam's skin from where they'd gone exploring the fields behind the house. Sam had gotten tan that summer, spending most of it running around shirtless and free, Dean's hands on him at every moment he got.

They had made love on the creaky floorboards of the kitchen, Sam's still growing legs wrapped around Dean's back, Dean's torso slick with sweat against his, his amulet digging into the skin of Sam's chest as Dean had fucked into him slowly, all of the muggy heat in Arkansas between them. Afterwards Sam had expressed an interest in eggrolls, and between copious amounts of kissing, chopping vegetables, and rolling pastry they had stuffed themselves full and fell asleep on the surprisingly comfortable king sized bed that was still in the master bedroom, sleepy and full and wrapped around each other, not bothering to cover up since it was so hot outside.

Dean let the memory drift through his mind, fixing on the image of Sam, smiling and happy in his arms as they'd drifted off to sleep. It was one of Dean's favorite memories, the two of them happy if only for the briefest span of time before John came back a week later and had them moving again, Dean regretfully having to go back to disguising his touching Sam to playful wrestling and punches, quick kisses and squeezing Sam's ass when their dad's back was turned. It killed Dean, not being able to touch Sam how he wanted all the time.

Dean was still musing to himself when John came back with food, brown bag of liquor clutched in one hand. Dean rolled his eyes, the bottle in his hand suddenly offensive. Sam hated it when John drank, and Dean realized that he'd been hitting the bottle a lot harder than normal, having upped his consumption when Sam had left for Stanford. He capped the bottle and picked up the bag of food that John had set aside for him, grunting that he was going to go eat outside and get some air. John nodded, already delving into the noodles and whiskey before him.

The night was clear, a huge blanket of stars overhead, the late April air not terribly humid but still warm enough that Dean took off his outer shirt, leaving him in just a thin white t-shirt. He chewed carefully on his sesame pork, his jaw aching every time he moved it. The massive bruise that was surely going to be there in the morning was seriously going to slow him down in the sex department, his face swollen like the Elephant Man. Not that the sex he'd been having even meant anything to him, simply because it wasn't Sam. Dean couldn't even remember the name of the last person he'd slept with, some girl they'd rescued from a vampire back in the western part of Kentucky. She had been tall, with long brown hair and dark eyes that flicked between light green and gray. Dean didn't even try to deny to himself that he fucked her because she looked like Sam, and had nearly called her that during the not so very good sex they had. He hadn't even bother to stick around until she fell asleep, driving back to the motel and silently shedding tears until he passed out.

The ringing of his phone in his pocket brought him back from the memory, seeing Sam's name flash on the caller ID. He couldn't bring himself to answer because he knew exactly what he'd say, accuse Sam of leaving him and how much he missed him and Dean Winchester was not about to break down over the phone in the middle of Arkansas.

After hearing the message Sam left though, it happened anyway. With a sudden surge of resolve, he decided that as soon as he got the chance, he was going to California.

. . .

April turned into May, and then May into June, the heat skyrocketing in Palo Alto. Sam was out with friends one night, celebrating his roommate Sean's twenty first birthday. Of course Sam couldn't legally drink but that didn't mean he couldn't celebrate with his friends. Besides, Sean had been eying him all night and it had been two months since Sam had gotten laid and even kind of looked like Dean. Sam could use a warm body to hold on to that night anyway, especially since he'd had Dean on the brain all day.

Sean was on his fourth beer and slowly working his hand up Sam's thigh when Sam's phone rang, "Highway To Hell" blaring from it. Sam extracted it and swatted away Sean's hand from his crotch as he opened it and pressed it to one ear, straining to hear over the noise of the crowded bar he was in.

"You know Sammy, these dorms are kinda nice. Mind if you come out from wherever you are and show me around?" Sam nearly dropped the phone in his nachos, his mouth going dry and any sort of coherent thought processes he might have had suddenly leaving him completely. "D… Dean?"

"The one and only Sam. Where the hell are you?"

"I'm… it doesn't matter, I'll be there soon." Sam got up out his seat, breathlessly spilling out a quick apology to Sean and his friends and leaving money on the table to pay for his food. He didn't exactly break into a run inside the bar, but he sure as hell picked up the pace when he was out of it, his long legs carrying him quickly down the three blocks it took to get back to his dorm.

Dean had parked under a streetlamp in one of the visitor spaces, the gleaming metal of the Impala under Dean where he was sitting on the hood, facing away from Sam and towards the front of Sam's dorm. He was wearing a green tank top and jeans, his hands tossing his phone back and forth, waiting for Sam. Sam swallowed and licked his lips, that dry feeling returning to his mouth. He quietly approached Dean, his hands shoved in his pockets, stopping within a few feet of the Impala and saying "You know, you need a key to get in the building." Dean turned and faced him, Sam bracing himself for the punch the jaw that he was sure was coming, the harsh words of why don't you love me anymore.

Instead he got Dean's arms going around his shoulders and Dean putting his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply and whispering "Sammy." Sam shut his eyes and hugged Dean tight, his body warm and real and fitting perfectly against Sam's, the faint smell of Dean's aftershave and hair gel bringing him back to earth, feeling like he'd been drifting for almost a year now, the grounding force of Dean holding him making him rejoice internally.

Dean didn't break the embrace as he looked into Sam's eyes and cracked the biggest grin Sam had ever seen on his face. "You look great Sammy." He ran his eyes up and down Sam's body, one hand on the side of Sam's face, feeling the skin heat under his palm as Sam blushed deeply, returning Dean's smile with one of his own.

"Yeah I uh…. Campus has a pretty nice gym you know and-" Sam's words were cut off by the impossibly wonderful feeling of Dean's lips against his, Dean's hand sliding up the back of his neck and the other going around his waist, pulling Sam closer to him. Sam closed his eyes and kissed Dean back, mimicking Dean's actions and placing his hands like Dean's, feeling like a man dying of thirst that had suddenly found an oasis and he was the only one there to drink.

Sam opened his mouth and Dean's tongue slid right in, molding perfectly against Sam's, the taste of French fries and apple pie in Dean's mouth. To Sam, it was the best thing he'd ever tasted, a feast that only he was invited to, a feast of Dean just for him. Dean pressed the kiss harder, Sam responding in kind, trying to meet the utterly overwhelming feeling of it, trying to say that he was sorry with his lips and tongue, letting his body do the talking for him.

Dean broke the kiss, gasping for air, his arms still tight around Sam's body which he found to be a lot more muscular than the last time they had done this, Sam's arms and shoulders now close to rippling with strength. "Sammy look before we keep going with this I know you've got something to say so now would be a good time because that pretty mouth of yours is gonna be busy here pretty fucking soon."

Sam spoke quickly. "I'm sorry for leaving you and Dad. Wasn't fucking worth leaving you Dean. God every fucking morning it hurts, not waking up next to you. Just know that Dean – I kinda regret it every damn day."

Dean gave him another kiss, then pulled back. "Sam, look. I know that this is your dream, your life, whatever. I'm prepared to live with that but baby boy I want you. I want to see you as much as I can because… fuck it's too much not being here with you so swear it to me Sammy, swear that you're not kicking me out of your life."

Sam's voice cracked with emotion that he'd been trying to keep down. "Dean I never… no. I never wanted you away from me…. Just… all the other crap." Sam ran a hand through his hair and waited for Dean to answer him.

"So you still want me?"

Sam gave him as much of an are you fucking kidding me right now look as he could manage at the moment. "Thought I had made that pretty obvious Dean."

"Well why don't we go upstairs and we can really work on proving it."

. . .

The elevator wasn't working, so they wound up going up the stairs, which consisted more of them shoving each other against the walls and kissing then actually making any progress up to Sam's room. Sean and his other roommates were still out, meaning that they could be as loud as they wanted to be. Sam fumbled with the lock to his door, Dean's hands roaming all over his body as he tried to get it open, Dean's lips and teeth doing positively sinful things to the side of his neck and ear, each brush of contact going straight to Sam's already achingly hard dick. Sam halfheartedly tried to shove him away, smiling the whole time because he was about to have sex with Dean, the only person he ever really wanted this with.

Sam shoved the door open as soon as he heard the lock snick open, bursting into the small room and pulling Dean in with him, Dean spinning him and shoving him back up against the door, Sam's hand groping to lock it again. Dean kissed him with twice as much hunger as before, his hands lifting up on the hem of Sam's shirt, lifting it over Sam's head. Dean paused for a moment because holy shit Sam looked good – there was a good amount of definition in his abs and Dean eyed the v of Sam's muscles that pointed like an arrow down into his jeans, the light dusting of hair beneath his navel the wrapping on a gift that Dean had been the first to unwrap. Dean quickly took off his own shirt, running his hands over the planes of Sam's body as soon as he had it off.

"Fuck Sammy… you been hitting the rack or something?" Sam took an incredible amount of pleasure in the worshipful tone of Dean's voice and flexed, every muscle in this torso standing out for Dean to see. "Gotta stay fit Dean – all kinds of people want a piece of this." Sam watched the possessive look in Dean's eye flair up and that was all it too good because Dean flung Sam down on the full-size bed, his voice growly and low in Sam's ear. "You been cheating on me Sam?"

"Like you've been saving yourself for me Dean, don't lie to me." Dean bit at the tender skin of Sam's throat, pleased with the mark that it made, the flesh purpling slightly.

"Certainly haven't been letting guys fuck me up the ass Sammy – you been doing that, you had other cocks in you aside from mine?"

Sam tugged down on Dean's head and crashed their lips together, tongues and teeth fighting for dominance. Sam needed it rough like this, needed to feel Dean as much as possible because he knew that this wasn't going to be coming around again for a while. "Never Dean – only let you fuck me. My ass is just yours, fucking swear it Dean – no one's even touched it since you."

Dean bit down, hard, on Sam's earlobe. "Fucking better be telling the truth Sammy"

Sam moaned as Dean's tongue licked over the sensitive flesh. "P… promise it's true Dean. Nobody could ever fuck me as good as you do."

Dean let another growl escape his throat as he sucked a mark into the space behind Sam's ear. "You been letting 'em suck your cock, put their tongue in your ass?"

Sam shuddered at the possessive tone in Dean's voice, letting Dean touch him where he wanted. "N…. no Dean…. Just fucked 'em, that's all I swear…. It's just sex Dean, didn't mean a damn thing…. FUCK" Dean had bitten his neck again and twisted his right nipple at the same time, the pain-pleasure making his back arch.

"Fucking right Sammy, that's all it was – sex. You stay the night ever, let them put your arms around you while you slept?" Dean was sitting on his haunches between Sam's legs now, in the process of unbuckling his jeans as well as Sam's, the promise of Dean's hands on his cock just out of reach but very, very tangible.

"N… no Dean I… God Dean I could never do it because they're not you. Only ever want you De, it's the fucking truth I swear." Hearing the nickname that Sam had used throughout their childhood and the complete and utter sincerity in Sam's tone made something break inside Dean – Sam would never, ever lie to him about this, not about what he wanted from Dean when it came to sex.

"Dean…. Please believe me." Dean pulled Sam's body up to his and kissed him kissed him, slow and deep, saying "I believe you" and "I love you" at the same time. Dean pulled back after a moment and pulled Sam's jeans and underwear down his legs, Sam's cock hard and leaking as it was released from the confines of his jeans. Dean pulled his own jeans down past his thighs and pushed Sam down to the bed, the frame scooting backwards slightly as Dean landed on top of him, kissing Sam hungrily as he reached down and rubbed their cocks together, feeling the slick of precome from both of them.

"This what you want Sammy? Want me to fuck you, fill that pretty college boy ass up with my come?" Dean sucked on Sam's lower lip, putting more than a hint of teeth in it.

"Fuck yes Dean, 's the best when you fuck me?"

"Fucking right Sammy boy because nobody fucks you better than me and you fucking know it." Dean left a trail of marks down Sam's torso from where he sucked the bronzed flesh into his mouth, marking Sam as his and no one else's. Sam loved every little bite mark, every bruise that he knew would be there in the morning when he (hopefully) woke up in Dean's bed.

Sam could feel the warmth of Dean's breath over the head of his leaking cock, a promise of pleasure that only Dean could deliver on. Dean licked his lips, looking up at Sam, his dark green eyes blown wide in the low light of Sam's lamp. "Tell me what you want Sammy."

"Want…" Sam swallowed again, gathering himself. "Want you to suck my cock De, want your mouth on me. Best fucking mouth Dean I swear… please, need it so fucking bad." Sam wasn't at all too proud to beg right now, not when Dean was that fucking close to him.

Dean stuck out his tongue, just the tip as he licked up the underside of Sam's glans, making Sam try to get closer to him, the tease of Dean's mouth now something he wanted very badly. "Easy there Sammy, wanna hear you beg more."

Sam groaned, involuntarily thrusting his hips in the air. "Need your mouth Dean, need you to suck me – can never get enough of your fucking mouth Dean… fuck it's the best damn mouth cause nobody sucks me better than you. Please Dean, fucking need you so fucking bad." Sam was two seconds short of pulling Dean's head down and choking him on his cock whether Dean wanted to or not.

Dean decided that Sam had had enough and sucked the head of Sam's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the flared head, licking around the crown of it, Sam drawing in a sharp breath as Dean finally gave him what he wanted. Dean curled his hand around Sam's thick shaft, tasting Sam's precome as he stroked and sucked Sam at the same time. Sam let out a long moan, the long pent-up desire to feel Dean's touch again finally being released, the balm for all of the ills he'd been feeling released in his body. Dean was here, between his legs and sucking him like the goddamn pro that Dean was at this, except he was only good at sucking Sam's cock – he'd never do the same for another guy. With the two of them it was equal parts give and take most of the time, except for now – Dean was all give and Sam was okay with that.

Dean bobbed his head up and down with a practiced motion, making obscenely filthy slurping noises around Sam's cock, his spit coating the length of it and running down his chin. Dean reached down and stroked himself as he sucked off Sam, looking up every now and then with those big green eyes, watching Sam's face and mouth as he came apart at the seams from Dean's mouth. Dean smiled and closed his eyes again, playing Sam like a familiar tune, one that he couldn't get out of his head even if he tried.

Sam held his legs wide open for Dean, trying to fuck up into Dean's warm, wet mouth. Dean held him down, not letting Sam take control, needing Sam to just lay there and let Dean do this for him. He hollowed his cheeks a little more, tightening the hold of his mouth on Sam's cock, tasting more precome blurt onto his tongue. He could tell Sam was getting close to coming and he fully planned on letting him. Sam was a young guy – he could go another round or two if Dean played his cards right.

"Dean… I…." Dean tasted the bitterness of come in his mouth, not letting a drop spill from his lips. He didn't swallow it, instead letting it rest in his mouth. Sam's mouth was held open in a silent roar, back arched as he came in Dean's mouth. Dean carefully pulled back off of Sam's cock, letting it go as gently as he could, not wanting to spill any of Sam's come. He looked at Sam and batted one of his thighs, indicating that he wanted Sam to spread them wider. Sam gave him a look that was halfway between confusion and curiosity, noticing that Dean's mouth was closed and he could see a trail of white dripping from one corner. Sam got the message and lay back further, grabbing his calves and holding himself open.

Dean leaned back down and let Sam's come run out of his mouth from where he'd placed it between Sam's balls and sac. Sam gave a start as he felt the mixture of come and saliva move down his skin, only to be replaced a moment later by Dean's tongue on that spot. Sam's cock, which really hadn't gone back down, became fully hard again, aided by the knowledge of what Dean was going to do next.

Dean sat up and gave Sam's cock a couple quick tugs, come on his chin and around his lips. "Doing so good for me Sammy but you gotta tell me again – what do you want?" Dean squeezed Sam's cock, feeling it give an involuntary jump in his hands.

Sam's voice was raw from arousal. "Want…. Want you to eat me out Dean, want to fuck myself on your tongue. Want you to make me your slut with your tongue, need you to eat me out Dean, make my pretty little come hole open up for your big dick. Please sir, I need it so fucking bad." Sam's face was red and sweaty, a perfect thing combined with the words currently spilling from his mouth.

Dean had to reach down and stop himself from coming by grabbing the base of his cock, Sam's dirty talk hitting every little button he had. He hadn't been expecting Sam to call him sir but fuck if it wasn't the hottest damn thing. Dean didn't hesitate a second more, not really having a response to what Sam had just said. He shoved Sam up the mattress a little more, Sam spreading his legs wide and holding himself open again for Dean like a girl, except for the fact that Sam's ass was a thousand times better than any pussy Dean had ever had.

The combination of Sam's come with the musky taste of his ass made Dean's cock jump of its own accord, two familiar tastes coming together on his tongue along with a flood of memories. He remembered the first time he'd eaten Sam out, bent over the hood of the Impala while they'd been washing it one spring day in Maryland, Sam having gotten the day out of school and both of them horny from the moment they woke up that morning. John was in D.C. with an old flame for the week, leaving the two of them in Fredericksburg with nothing to do except fuck each other stupid. They had been washing the Impala in the backyard of the rented house and Sam had wiggled his ass at Dean one too many times, an invitation that Sam knew that Dean had no hope of resisting. He had yanked Sam's shorts down and made him writhe and beg just from his tongue, eventually getting him to come all over the metal of the Impala with a single touch of his hand.

Dean focused on that memory as he ate Sam out now, pressing Sam's come deeper into him with his tongue, plunging in and out of the pink flesh. Sam kept a tenuous grip on his legs, shaking and moaning every time Dean's tongue went back inside him, the motion made even slicker by his own seed. He was sweating bullets from every pore in his body, his mouth opening and closing as he quivered, Dean giving him everything he'd wanted for the last eight months, all he ever really wanted from him.

Dean kept going until Sam was open and loose for him, sitting back and wiping his mouth with a satisfied look on his face. Sam was a pile of sweaty muscle and dark brown hair, just waiting for the next thing that Dean had to offer. Dean stood and took his pants off the rest of the way, his own cock incredibly hard and leaking precome to the floor. Sam eyed him and licked his lips, making a motion to grab at Dean, Dean stepping back out of his reach.

"Uh uh Sammy – you let me take care of that. Got any lube around here?" Sam absently dug around in the bottom drawer of his nightstand and tossed the bottle at Dean, saying "Please don't make me wait De, need you bad right now." Sam was breathing heavy, his eyes hooded with lust as he chewed on his bottom lip, looking straight into Dean's eyes.

Dean wasn't about to deny Sam what he wanted and slicked himself up, careful to not let his own hand linger – he was going to come soon enough as it is, what with Sam sprawled out in front of him like some irresistible prize. He got back down between Sam's legs and took the remaining lube on his fingers and pressed it into Sam, made easier by the fact that Dean had worked him open with his tongue. Sam groaned as he felt Dean's thick fingers penetrate past the tight rings of muscle, reminding him of how he wanted Dean's cock and not this. Dean let him suffer for a few more minutes, deliberately drifting over his prostate, making Sam whimper and buck all the more.

By the time Dean lined himself up with Sam's come and lube slick entrance, he was nearly ready to burst. Sam was open but still tight, the heat of Sam closing around him something that he hadn't realized he'd missed so much. Sam was hot, impossibly hot, his body hard and willing to bend to Dean's touch. Sam was sitting up slightly, propped up against the mass of pillows he slept with, Dean's calves under his thighs as he sank into him. Sam put a hand on the small of Dean's back and pulled him in deeper, his eyes not leaving Dean's as they came together, joined for the first time in an eternity.

The angle at which Dean's cock hit Sam's sweet spot was just right, Dean moving slow in and out of him, one hand cupping the side of Sam's face and the other on the wall behind him for support. Dean kissed Sam deep as he fucked him, Sam's hand fisting his cock in time with Dean's thrusts. It was like dancing together again after being apart for so long, both of them falling back into a familiar pattern that only the two of them knew, moving in perfect sync with one another.

Sam sucked on Dean's bottom lip, every motion of Dean's hips making him squirm more, getting closer again to that place that only Dean could get him to. Dean fucked him a little harder, a little faster, feeling Sam starting to clench around him, his cock sliding in and out with slightly more ease now, Sam holding onto him with everything he had. Their collective moans reverberated off the walls, neither one of them caring in the last who might hear them. Dean went faster now, making the bed scoot across the floor as he fucked Sam harder, the mattress squeaking loudly under them as they moved, Dean hitting him in the prostate every time, a loud "ah" punched out of Sam's chest every time, Dean breathing hard and heavy against his lips.

"Oh God… fuck…. De… AH" Sam came again, his come bursting out of him and coating both of them, covering his body and Dean's with it, his hand still trying to push Dean further into him. Dean came a second after Sam, his teeth clenched and his head buried in the crook of Sam's neck, his hips stuttering as he came deep inside Sam, riding it out and trying to hold onto as much friction as possible. He slowed down after a moment, lazy thrusts taking over as the aftershocks began to wear off, finally stopping and collapsing against Sam's body.

Sam put his arms around Dean and held him there, neither of them saying a word, simply taking comfort in the others presence, breathing in each other's scent. It was like home, both of them in the other's embrace, Sam tracing lazy circles into the muscles of Dean's back. After a while, Dean picked his head up and looked at Sam. "Sorry I accused you of cheating Sammy – I know you gotta get your rocks off somehow."

Sam put a finger to Dean's lips. "Shhhhhhh, it's alright Dean. Don't think I'll be going to anyone else after this anyway. You're more than worth waiting for, always have been."

Dean kissed Sam on the forehead. "I know I'm not gonna always be around Sammy but I promise I'll try to make it out here more – and would it kill you pick up a phone every now and then?"

Sam looked more than a little chastened. "I didn't know if you wanted anything to do with me anymore Dean – that's why I didn't call."

"Baby boy, hearing your voice is something I don't want to go without if I can help it. I love you Sam, more than I could ever begin to say." Sam pulled him in for a tender kiss, still painfully aware of the fact that Dean was still inside him, not caring in the least.

Sam broke the kiss after a few minutes. "Will you at least stay the night with me Dean, please? Wanna wake up next to you."

"I was kinda hoping to stay for a week Sammy – Dad said that we could both use some rest and recreation so he's down in LA right now. How does that sound?"

Sam's smile could have lit up Times Square. "Perfect – and you were right Dean. Nobody does it better than you."

Dean kissed Sam again, nothing else mattering in the world but them.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sam woke up the next morning (afternoon actually, as he found when he looked at his alarm clock), he couldn't help but smile to himself.

His whole body ached, every joint and muscle protesting slightly as he turned over on his side and spooned himself to Dean's warm back. Dean was snoring slightly, having turned away from Sam sometime on the middle of the night. The two of them had made love again not long after that first round, slow and lazy but just as fulfilling. Sam had barely gotten them cleaned up before Dean had fallen asleep with his arm thrown across Sam's chest, holding him close.

It was the best Sam had slept in nearly a year.

Sam buried his nose in the hair on the back of Dean's head, breathing in the sleep smell and kissing the nape of Dean's neck. Dean stirred slightly and pulled the covers up a little more, the two of them barely having enough room on the full size bed. It wasn't like they hadn't slept in more confined conditions (Sam recalled more than a few nights in the backseat of the Impala) but Sam kind of wished they had at least a queen sized bed to be on right now.

After a few more moments Dean opened his eyes and reached a hand up to press Sam's face into the back of his head, smiling. "Been awhile since we woke up like this, huh Sammy?"

Sam chuckled and moved so Dean could roll onto his back. "Too long Dean, too long." Dean pulled Sam's head down for a kiss, their lips just grazing each other. Sam could still taste the hint of his come on Dean's lips, along with a trace of the mint toothpaste he'd let Dean borrow. Sam smiled into the kiss, pressing it a little deeper. Dean reached up further and tangled his fingers in Sam's long hair, not wanting Sam to get up.

They kissed until they were both gasping for air and Dean was straddling Sam's body, leaning down and rocking back onto Sam's morning wood, both of them still naked. Sam moaned, Dean's weight warm and pleasant on top of him.

At least until nature called and Sam was suddenly very aware of his full bladder.

With a resigned groan, Sam pushed Dean off of him and picked his boxers out of his discarded jeans.

"Where you going Sammy? That was just starting to get interesting." Dean stood and nuzzled the back of Sam's neck.

"Gotta pee. You wanna cover yourself before I open the door?" Sam adjusted his erection as best as he could in his underwear, anyone who looked at him would definitely know he had an erection.

"Don't have much to be ashamed about now, do I Sam?" Dean lay back on the bed and stroked his cock, one arm thrown behind his head and an inviting grin on his face. Sam whimpered and tore his eyes away, base needs winning out over lust.

He shut the door anyway, double checking to make sure the lock wasn't turned. He could smell booze in the air, still thick and heavy even though he was sure Sean and his friends weren't back when he and Dean fell asleep around two that morning. Sean was lying face down on the couch, an empty beer bottle clutched in one hand. He was definitely passed out, the gentle rise and fall of his back just perceptible to Sam's eyes. He moved the garbage can over to where he was lying, sure that he would need it, given the empty bottles of liquor he saw laying around.

He reached the bathroom and shut the door behind him, letting out a long sigh as he relived himself. He wondered if he could talk Dean into a shower, since the water would cover up at least some of the sounds they would inevitably be making.

As it turned out, Dean was way ahead of him. Sam emerged from the bathroom, the sound of the toilet flushing behind him as he came out. Dean was leaning against the sink, wearing boxers that were doing nothing to hide his erection. He pulled Sam towards him and kissed him again, Dean's mouth perfect and soft and hot against Sam's, Sam stifling a moan as Dean slid a hand into the back of his underwear and groped his ass, one finger briefly teasing against his hole.

Sam broke the kiss and said "Shower. Now." Dean grinned again and gestured for Sam to lead the way. The shower (which was more of a stall with a door on it) was small, but Sam figured that if they placed themselves just right they'd have enough room. Double checking for the sounds of his suitemates to wake up, he closed the door behind him, groping for the light switch. He found it and Dean had him up against the wall again, kissing Sam hungrily. This time he reached down and stroked Sam through his underwear, the rub of the fabric over Sam's cock head making him moan into Dean's mouth. Sam responded by hooking his fingers in the waistband of Dean's boxers and tugging them down, Dean's hard cock springing free, hot and hard in Sam's hand.

Dean gasped when Sam squeezed him just a little too hard, the pressure of Sam's fingers on him beautiful, his need swelling even more. Sam crashed their lips together again, his other hand reaching for the knob of the shower, using muscle memory to find where the water wouldn't be too hot on the dial. Dean sucked Sam's tongue into his mouth, growling when Sam's hand found his ass and pulled on one cheek, the sudden rush of air over his entrance making him shudder.

Sam pulled them under the now warm water, still locked in an embrace. Dean's hands were all over him, touching Sam anywhere and everywhere. The passion that had come rushing back between them last night filled back in, their traces of sleepiness gone with the need to touch each other. The stall was too narrow for Sam to drop to his knees and blow Dean, so he contented him with holding him against the wall and stroking him with one hand, the other around Dean's waist.

Dean responded by doing the same, wrapping his hand around Sam's cock that was incessantly poking against his thigh, his other hand cupping the back of Sam's head, his fingers tangled in Sam's now wet hair, moaning again as Sam stroked him a little faster, doing the same to Sam.

Sam broke the kiss and said "Do you have any idea how many times I've jacked off in here thinking about you and me doing this again Dean? Every fucking day since I came here. God I've missed-"Dean shut him up with a kiss and started stroking him faster, his hand warm on Sam's dick, his arousal bottoming out and before he knew it he was coming all over Dean's hand, Dean following soon after, both of them breathing heavy and holding onto each other for support. Sam kept kissing Dean through the aftershocks of orgasm, Dean's body relaxing against his.

Dean pulled back and smiled at Sam, his hand still in Sam's hair. "Gonna clean me up now baby boy?"

Sam kissed him again, reaching for his washcloth and lathering it up with soap. "Absolutely."

. . .

It was nearly two o'clock before Dean finally announced that he was hungry, and now that Sam thought of it, so was he.

After going and retrieving Dean's duffle from the trunk of the Impala, Sam suggested the burger joint he had frequented since coming to Stanford. All it took was Sam saying the word "burger" for Dean to hurriedly put on his clothes, opting for another tank top, this one gray, and jeans, tugging on a pair of worn socks and his biker boots, slipping the amulet on last. Dean looked like sin on two feet, especially since the jeans were hugging his ass just right as Sam followed him down the stairs.

Outside, Dean subtly slipped his fingers into Sam's right hand and said "lead the way." Sam smiled to himself, gripping Dean's hand back gently. If he wanted to hold his hand then he had absolutely zero problem with that. Not a soul here even knew who Dean was, save for the fact that sometimes Sam would look a bit distant as he thought of him, to which he played off as thinking about something else completely.

The restaurant – Jack's, as it was called – was busy for two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, and they had to wait for a couple of seats to open up at the bar, all of the booths and seats full. Ashley was working again, and she smiled at Sam when he sat down. "Been awhile since I've seen you. How've you been Sam?"

Sam returned her smile and said "Better now. This is my boyfriend, Dean." Dean gave her his best panty dropping smile, watching her turn crimson and smile demurely at him. Sam felt a rush of jealousy that was quickly stopped by Dean's hand squeezing his thigh. "Nice to meet you Ashley – you been taking care of Sammy here for me?"

Ashley stammered for a moment. "I've been feeding…. I mean I've been serving… shit… he comes here a lot. And I take his orders… I…." The poor girl was trying her best to not sound like she was encroaching on Dean's territory, but Dean just kept smiling at her, watching her dissolve. She gratefully move on to another customer, collecting herself.

"Dude, that was mean." Dean turned and looked at Sam, who had his own shit-eating grin spreading across his face. "You haven't told many folks about me, huh?"

Sam shrugged. "Not really. I told her though. I might have told her a lot actually. She's been a good listener and for a while she was it. I met her the first night I was here, when I went looking for dinner."

Dean dropped his voice lower. "Didn't sleep with her, did you?"

Sam looked a little taken aback. "What? Of course not Dean, c'mon. I mean she offered but…. I didn't want to ruin what we had. But I uh…. kind of ruined that after a while anyway."

Dean looked down at the worn countertop. "Yeah I've not exactly been faithful either to you either Sam, and I feel like shit for doing it. Really."

Sam pulled Dean a little closer to him and whispered. "It's alright Dean, I-"

"No, it's not alright Sam. I should have stayed faithful to you. And I'm sorry Sammy, really, really sorry."

Sam kissed Dean on the cheek. "I forgive you Dean. Promise I won't sleep with anyone else either. You're worth waiting on De. Swear it."

Dean turned his head and gave Sam a kiss, his tongue slipping into Sam's mouth just as quickly as it went back out. "Just me and you Sam, alright? Promise I won't sleep around anymore."

Sam touched his forehead to Dean's and said softly "Okay."

Ashley came back and noticed the way Sam was looking at Dean. "Do I need to give you two some more time or are you ready?"

Sam didn't let go of Dean's hand on the countertop and turned back to Ashley. "Nah, we're ready. I'll have the veggie burger." Dean made a sound between a laugh and a snort "and fries. Big order." To wash it all down he ordered a Coke, watching Dean salivate as he perused the menu on the wall behind the counter.

"Uh… whatever the special is today I guess. Hell it all looks delicious. You guys have beer?"

Ashley shook her head. "Sorry. But we have floats, any kind you want."

"Root beer, and be generous with the ice cream sweetheart." Dean gave her a wink and Ashley blushed again, harder than before. Sam couldn't quite stifle the giggle that came out of his mouth, watching her get progressively more flustered as she went about her work.

It took a while for their food to come but when it did, Sam realized he was starving. He immediately picked up the burger and dove right in, the bread just right and not too soggy. For a veggie burger it was really good, the perfect balance of veggie and… whatever else it was. Sam was halfway through it when he turned to look at Dean who was currently destroying his cheeseburger, ketchup and mustard on the corners of his mouth. Sam leaned over and licked the side closest to him, the gesture nearly catching Dean off guard. Sam tossed him a wink and went back to his own food, watching Dean shift on his stool, perfectly aware of the fact that he'd just given Dean an erection.

Sam smiled and enjoyed the rest of his meal, watching Dean grow more and more uncomfortable.

. . .

They did at least manage to make it out of the restaurant before Dean pulled Sam between two buildings and shoved him up against the wall, running his palm over the bulge of Sam's cock. "Think you're clever, don't you?"

Sam rose to the challenge and gave Dean an innocent smile. "Don't know what you're talking about Dean."

"Bullshit. You know what shit like that does to me."

"Perfectly aware of it actually. What, can I not tease you a little?"

"Not in a restaurant full of people. Wanted to throw you over that countertop and fuck you dry."

"I know a little spot where we can do that – and this time, I'm fucking you. Been wanting that tight little ass of yours since you got here." Sam drove his point home with a bite to Sam's earlobe.

"Shit, Sammy…." Dean bent his neck a little more, offering up the expanse of skin to Sam's mouth.

"But not here Dean. We gotta drive a little to get there."

. . .

A little drive turned into fifteen minutes, as Dean found out. It was a spot right on the bank of a lake nearby, Sam explaining he found it while out on a run one day. The thought of Sam running, shirtless and in shorts most likely, took Dean's arousal and cranked it up a couple more notches, shifting in his seat as he parked the car in a relatively shady spot.

Sam leaned over and took Dean's head in his hands, unbuckling his seatbelt and kissing him before Dean had a chance to get out of the car. Sam pulled back after a moment and mumbled "Sorry for teasing you back at the diner." Dean smiled as he kissed Sam, murmuring "Don't be. Got us a little present Sam – something I've been saving for a while. Look in the glove compartment. Old condom box." Sam let go of Dean and opened the compartment, realizing that whatever Dean was referring to was stashed in the last box of condoms they'd bought together before Sam left for college.

"You would, wouldn't you?" Sam rolled his eyes and opened it. Inside was a bag of weed and two already rolled blunts. "Oh." He looked at Dean and smiled, Dean grinning at him. "Mmm-hmm. Been saving that for almost six months now Sammy. Sorry but no one except you gets to do _that_ with me. I mean no one." Dean reached over and squeezed Sam's thigh, his eyes flicking up and down Sam's form. "So why don't we go park out pretty asses on the hood and see where things go." Dean pulled a lighter out of his pocket and waggled his eyebrows, opening his door and getting out.

Sam followed a moment later, shutting the door behind him. Dean was already sitting on the hood, waiting for Sam. Sam came and stood in between Dean's legs, putting his arms around Dean's waist and kissing him again, feeling Dean's thighs close around him and Dean's tongue go into his mouth. Sam sighed gently, the warmth of lust pooling in his body as Dean deepened the kiss further, opening up Sam's mouth more with his tongue. Sam slid a hand up under the back of Dean's shirt, running his fingers up and down his spine.

Dean broke the kiss and looked up at Sam. "Ready?"

Sam nodded. "Always."

Dean smiled and brought one of the blunts up to his lips, putting the box it was in behind him. He fished the lighter out of his pocket, Sam backing up slightly so he didn't get burned. Dean took the first hit, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in him, feeling his body warm even further in the very late spring heat. He crooked a finger at Sam, who held his mouth open slightly, their lips just barely brushing against each other. Dean exhaled, the smoke traveling from his mouth to Sam's, Sam closing his eyes and breathing in as much of it as possible, the weed making him warm as well.

Dean followed it up with a kiss, relaxed and unhurried. Sam leaned further down, nearly pushing Dean to lay down on the hood of the Impala. Dean felt the back of his shirt ride up, realizing that Sam was trying to get it off of him. Dean broke the kiss and handed the blunt to Sam, pulling the tank top off over his head.

Sam put the blunt to his mouth and inhaled, running a hand over Dean's body as he did, the slight pudge of Dean's belly making him smile. Dean wasn't fat, he just had a belly and had since Sam could remember. Dean noticed the smile on Sam's face and said "What?"

Sam just shook his head and brought Dean's face closer to his, running his thumb along Dean's bottom lip, tugging his mouth open. Sam pressed their lips just barely together and exhaled, filling Dean with the warm smoke, feeling his body become looser than before. Dean smiled at Sam again, teeth showing like that of the Cheshire cat.

Sam's head lolled forward and rested on Dean's shoulder. "Been thinking about something De. Something you like."

Dean kissed the side of Sam's head. "What's that Sammy?"

"Wanna bend you over this hood and…" Sam took a second to collect his thoughts, Dean sitting up a little more at the phrase "bend over the hood."

"Mmm, I like where this is going – tell me more baby boy."

Sam took another hit of the blunt, letting the warmth move through his body, kissing Dean again as he exhaled, their tongues warm and smoky in each other's mouths. Sam pulled back after a minute and rested his forehead against Dean's. "And eat out that tight little ass of yours, get you nice and wet, nice open for my cock Dean. You want that, you want your Sammy to put his mouth on you and make you moan?"

Hearing the words from Sam's mouth like that, so purely honest – it made Dean shudder. "God Sammy… please." Dean kissed him again, grabbing the sides of Sam's head and not letting go, Sam's hands reaching around to cup Dean's ass, the blunt expended and summarily dropped to the ground. Sam was high, Dean was high, and nothing else in the world mattered at the moment but them.

After a few more minutes, Dean tugged at the hem of Sam's t-shirt, lifting it. Sam got the message and took it off, his body covered in sweat from the close proximity to Dean and the fact that it was in the high eighties, the air slightly muggy. Dean kissed Sam again and ran his hands up and down his torso, feeling the hard planes of muscle that Sam had developed in his time at school.

Sam's hands dropped to Dean's belt, still exchanging open mouthed kisses with Dean, Dean's hands on him making his arousal skyrocket further. He got Dean's pants undone and hooked his fingers in Dean's underwear, taking it down along with his pants in one motion. Sam put his hands on Dean's hips and pulled him off of the car, turning him around and bending him over.

The metal of the hood was warm against Dean's cheek as Sam held him down with one hand, the other on Dean's ass, Sam's fingers rubbing up and down the cleft, letting Dean feel him. "So fucking pretty bent over that hood Dean, look at you. You want it bad, don't you?" Sam's speech was slightly slurred from the weed, but the low, growly tone with which he spoke was not lost on Dean at all.

"God Sammy, please. Don't want it, fucking need it. Been too long Sammy, c'mon, need you so fucking bad." Dean wiggled his ass, Sam planting a firm smack on it, taking pleasure in the red mark it left behind. Dean gasped, his cock jumping, feeling the place where it was against the grille smear with precome.

Sam smacked him again, this time a little harder, the pitch of Dean's moan getting higher and his voice louder. Dean whimpered, his fingers splayed wide against the black metal underneath him, trying to hold onto something. "Shit….Sam when did you get to be such a kinky bastard?"

Sam's chuckle sent a jolt of electricity up Dean's spine. "Had a lot of time to fantasize Dean. Gotta say that this is definitely one of my better ones." On the last word, Sam spanked Dean hard, Dean writhing against the Impala's hood, held down by Sam, his cock rock hard. "Sam… please…." Dean didn't have it him to beg more than that, his whole body blissed out with arousal and weed, every ghost of Sam's fingers across his skin making pleasure arc through him.

Sam gave Dean one more hard smack, watching Dean squirm even more. "Such a slut for me, aren't you Dean? You like it when I hold you down and do what I want, don't you?"

"Y… yes." Dean was being completely honest, even in his current state.

"It's a good look on you Dean." Sam let go of Dean's back and dropped to his knees, spreading Dean's legs more with his hands. Dean was shuddering every couple of second with pleasure, his cock heavy between his legs, precome dripping from him in a steady stream. "Love how fucking wet you get for me Dean, shit." Sam reached up and slowly stroked Dean's cock, the gentleness of his fingers compared to how Sam was spanking him a moment ago a complete contrast, and Dean moaned loud, louder than before.

Sam gently kissed the angry red mark on Dean's ass, wetting the spot with his tongue. Dean was convinced that if he died right now, it would be a happy death, because this was all he wanted. Sam slowly drifted his lips across Dean's backside, still slowly stroking Dean's cock with one hand. He removed it after a moment and spread Dean's cheeks, Dean's tiny pink pucker an invitation that Sam wasn't willing to pass up on a moment longer.

The first tentative link of Sam's tongue against his heated flesh made Dean sob with pleasure, his ass still burning from where Sam had spanked him, the velvety smoothness of Sam's tongue slowly slipping in and out of him a gift from above, because Dean was convinced that nothing on earth could feel this good. Dean tried to fuck himself against Sam's tongue, but Sam held him still, saying "Uh-uh Dean – you're not allowed to move." Dean wasn't about to protest, keeping his hands firmly planted against the hood of the Impala, Sam slowly taking him apart.

Sam kept his motions slow and deliberate, using as much of his tongue as possible to lick into Dean, every brush of his tongue making Dean shudder and groan, Sam every couple of moments raising his hand to milk Dean's cock, adding just a little but more touch for Dean to get off on.

Not that he was going to let Dean until he said so.

Sam kept rimming Dean until he was a sobbing mess, his body taught with arousal, shaking every time he breathed. It wasn't often that Sam saw Dean this strung out, but when he did it was beautiful. Sam's cock was painfully hard in his jeans, a damp patch where precome had been leaking since he'd kissed Dean back in the diner. He stood and hauled Dean up, pressing his naked back to his torso. Sam turned Dean's head and captured his mouth in a kiss, reaching down to stroke him, Dean's hand on his trying to set the pace, trying to get to completion. Sam stopped him and whispered "Not until I say Dean." Dean nodded, understanding that this was probably the wisest decision.

Sam let him go after a moment and walked to the passenger side door of the car, leaving Dean struggling to not touch himself. He reached in the open window and opened the glove compartment, grabbing the lube that Sam knew was there, especially since John had given Dean the Impala and the two of them had promptly started fucking in it. Sam forewent a condom, deciding that he wanted Dean to feel all of him.

Dean saw the lube in Sam's hands and licked his lips, knowing what was coming next. Sam moved back behind him, Dean's ass still red from where he'd spanked him. He opened the cap and poured some lube into his hands, pressing two fingers into Dean's hole, still tight in spite of where Sam had worked him open with his tongue. Dean braced his hands on the hood again, Sam's skilled fingers sliding in and out of him, Sam's mouth planting soft little kisses across the back of Dean's shoulders.

"So fucking tight Dean. Gonna fuck you so good Dean, promise." Sam reached down and unbuckled his pants, his erection making them tighter by the second. He looked down at the precome that had coated his entire length from the constraint of being in his underwear so long and ran his fingers through it, taking two of them and bringing them up to Dean's mouth. Dean sucked on them, moaning as he realized he was tasting Sam for the second time in less than 24 hours.

As Dean sucked on his fingers, Sam worked the lube into him, first slipping one and then two fingers in, Dean moaning around the digits in his mouth. "Gonna get you good and open for me Dean. Don't want to hurt you on my cock. You love my big fucking dick in me, don't you Dean?"

Dean sucked on Sam's fingers a little harder and nodded.

"Not good enough Dean – need to hear you say it." Sam crooked his finger and found Dean's prostate, making Dean shudder.

"God Sammy yes – love your big cock inside me, love feeling you stretch me for you. Come on baby boy, wanna feel you inside me." Dean was shaking from head to foot with want – it had been too long since he'd had Sam inside him, and he wanted it now.

Sam took his fingers out of Dean's mouth and replaced them with his lips, kissing Dean as he lined himself up with Dean's hole. Sam swallowed the groan that came from Dean's lips as he sank into him, screw his eyes shut even more as he buried himself to the hilt, Dean a furnace around him. Sam felt something wet against his cheek and realized Dean had let a single tear of pleasure out, trying to press himself back onto Sam as much as possible.

Sam held him there for a few moments, letting Dean's body get readjusted to him. They had been switching practically from the outset of their relationship, both giving and taking in equal measure. Sam finally let go of Dean's mouth and bent him forward again, holding onto Dean's hips, rubbing and massaging the area over the bone. "Ready Dean?"

All Dean could do was nod, and Sam began to move, at first using long, slow motions that let Dean feel as much of him as possible at one time, bending his head forward, his bangs falling with the bend of his beck. He was breathing heavy, and not just from the heat that had suddenly seemed to skyrocket. The spot where they were was secluded sure but they could still easily be caught – which made it even hotter. That and Dean was making enough noise to wake the dead. Sam kept it slow for a long time, slowly fucking in and out of him, occasionally bending forward to kiss across Dean's shoulders, his hands still on his hips.

Sam sped up, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit Dean's prostate more. Dean groaned, his breath fogging the hood of the Impala, one hand in between his legs and stroking himself, the other grabbing at slick metal. Sam could still feel the weed in his system, making him feel warm on the inside, amplified further by the way Dean was clenching and unclenching around him, his body there for Sam to do what he wanted. Sam sped up again, flesh slapping against flesh, and Dean picked up one foot out of his jeans and put it on the bumper, pushing his ass out more, Sam taking the invitation and fucking him even harder, the Impala rocking back on its wheels as Sam pounded into him, their moans filling the air in the small grove of trees.

Dean tightened his grip on himself, his orgasm getting closer and closer, the slick of precome coating his cock completely, Sam's hands an iron grip on his hips. He was close, really really close to coming, Sam reading his body language like a book and snapping his hips, one, two, three times, each one hitting Dean right in his sweet spot and that was all it took, Dean's come erupting all over the grille of the Impala, face down in the metal, Sam tossing his head back and his hips losing their rhythm as he came, Dean's muscles clamped tight around him, pulling Sam's orgasm out of him and making him shiver with pleasure.

Dean set his foot on the ground and let go of his spent cock, barely holding himself up. Sam thrust lazily into him a few more times as he rode through the aftershocks of his orgasm, pulling himself out and watching his come run down the back of Dean's leg. He kissed up Dean's spine and raised him up, turning him around and kissing him tenderly, rubbing his softening cock against Dean's as they came down from their collective high.

Sam broke the kiss after a few minutes and smiled. "That what you wanted baby?"

Dean kissed him back and said "Sure was Sammy – God I missed this."  
Sam ran a hand through Dean's hair and mouthed against his lips "Me too De. Wanna stay here for a while?"

Dean nodded. "Wouldn't want to go anywhere else baby boy."

Sam hauled up his jeans and underwear, saying "Backseat."

Dean was already climbing in and making room for Sam.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam regretted that a weekend wasn't longer than two days.

They had spent practically all of Sunday in bed together, making slow, soft love to each other, only coming out of Sam's room to eat or use the bathroom. Sam knew that it would set him back as far as studying was concerned but Dean was a distraction that he was only too eager to take advantage of. Sam just wished that

It was the last day of spring and the temperature had soared in the last forty eight hours, making Sam sweat. He was sitting in his world history class, halfheartedly taking notes and thinking about Dean's ass. He had stayed with Dean in bed as long as he could have that morning, Dean only regretfully letting him go when Sam told him he had a quiz that morning. Dean did understand that school meant a lot to him, and he truly did want him to succeed – John had never been big on the whole school thing, but Dean had cheered him on all the way from kindergarten to now. Without Dean being there for him, Sam was sure that he wouldn't be where he was now.

Sam let out a deep sigh and sat up in his seat, feeling the cotton of his t-shirt stick to his back and shoulders. The air conditioning in this building hadn't worked since the start of summer session, and it didn't appear that anything was being done to try and fix it. He had told Dean that he'd be in class from ten to three that day, not even getting a break for lunch. It was almost two now, and that last hour was going to be hell, he knew it.

What Dean was doing, he had no idea. Sam had told him to go and see the surrounding area; sitting around in Sam's room all day wasn't going to do him any good. Sam assumed he had gone out and about – there were always bars for him to hustle pool at, after all. Sam stopped paying attention and thought of Dean's ass, the way his body would curve and bend over a pool table, how he had always wanted to eat Dean out while he was bent over to line up a shot. It made his cock swell just thinking about it, shifting in his seat and subtly dragging his palm across his crotch, a short gasp escaping his lips.

He really hoped that Dean was back by the time he got out of class. Sam sighed again and bent down to dig around in his book bag. He quietly unzipped one of the smaller pockets and found what he was looking for. In order to help himself concentrate he had taken to keep candy in his bag, the sugar helping him to focus. That morning he had bought some apple rings, looking forward to their tart/sugary taste. He opened the bag and, pleased to see they hadn't melted, popped one in his mouth, letting it dissolve some before he chewed on it.

That's when he got an idea, one that Dean was sure to love.

. . .

Sam would have been surprised to know that his thoughts on Dean being bent over a pool table were surprisingly accurate.

Dean took another sip of his beer and eyed his opponent, watching carefully as he lined up his shot. The guy was good, really good, one of the better players Dean had come across. Then again, he looked like the sort of person who would be in a bar at two in the afternoon on a Monday; then again, so was Dean. Dean watched him sink three balls, smiling up at Dean when he realized he'd just pulled ahead.

Dean returned the grin with a forced one of his own and focused himself; there was a thousand dollars in it for him if he won. Dean saw the perfect opportunity – if he could sink his two solids he'd beat him. He didn't even hear the balls sink into the pockets, just acknowledging the defeated look on the other guy's face – he hadn't even bothered to learn his name. He just grinned smugly and watched the other man dig out his wallet and hand him a crisp stack of Ben Franklins, Dean raising his beer to him and setting the empty bottle down on the bar on his way out. He had walked to the bar, the distance not even half a mile from Sam's dorm. He pulled out his phone and checked for messages, seeing none at all. He pulled up Sam's name in his contacts and sent him a text:

"Let me know what building you're in and I'll meet you when you get out – miss my baby boy." Dean closed his phone and pulled on the front of his shirt, the humidity already starting to weigh on him.

Not that he wouldn't be sweating more soon enough anyway. He walked for another moment or two when he heard his phone chirp, Sam's reply flashing across the screen at him with directions from Sam's dorm. At the end of the message was "Miss my De." Dean couldn't help but smile – being with Sam again had made the deep depression he'd felt since Sam left lift away, and he knew that even when he left he'd be better, simply because he knew Sam would still love him no matter what.

Dean started walking a little faster, eager to see Sam's face again.

. . .

Sam nearly tripped over himself as soon as his professor dismissed class, packing his things up in a hurry. He didn't have any close friends in this particular class, so he didn't feel quite so bad for leaving in haste.

Dean was sitting in the building's lobby, his pacing back and forth and turned away from Sam. Sam quietly walked up to him and hugged him from behind, feeling Dean stiffen for a split second and then relax back into Sam's arms, not caring in the least who saw them. Dean turned and cupped Sam's face in his hands, kissing him on the lips. Dean pulled back at the tart/sweet taste in Sam's mouth.

"What's that?" Dean licked his lips, trying to identify the taste on them.

Sam reached into the side pocket of his bag and produced the half empty bag of apple rings. "These. Want one?" Sam extended the bag forward, watching Dean take three of them at one time and pop them into his mouth. After a moment, trying to chew and talk at the same time, Dean gave his verdict. "Holy shit Sam – these are actually good. Sam put one in his mouth and bent forward, half of it between his teeth. Dean bit down on the half sticking out from Sam's mouth and pulled away, letting the taste roll around on his tongue.

Dean chewed until he's swallowed and spoke again, noticing the slight hood of Sam's eyes. "Say uh Sammy… you have anything else to do today? Because I was kind of hoping we could go out tonight." Sam shook his head. "Nope. Sean had to cancel our study session – apparently he has a date. Suits me just fine, especially since I have a little surprise for you before we go anywhere." Sam winked, his smile enigmatic. Dean narrowed his eyes at him, wondering what Sam was getting at. "What did you have in mind?" Dean let his fingers slide under Sam's shirt, rubbing the jut of his hipbones.

"Come with me back to my room and I'll show you De. Promise it's worth your while." Sam slipped his tongue into Dean's mouth this time when he kissed him, loving the little shiver of pleasure that Dean gave when he pressed their lips together. Dean pulled back after a moment and said "Lead the way."

. . .

The walk back to Sam's dorm took longer than it should have, especially since Dean was constantly pulling him between buildings to try and lick the sugary taste of candy out of Sam's mouth. Sam even managed to get his hands down the back of Dean's pants once or twice, cupping his ass and trying to press their bodies together more. By the time they got to Sam's door both were walking and trying to conceal their erections, not helped in the least by Dean's fingers tracing up Sam's spine every chance he got. Sam fumbled with the lock on his door and they more or less collapsed into the room, Sam shucking his book bag as Dean pushed him towards the bed and pinned him, this time kissing Sam fervently and grinding his hips down, hearing and feeling the vibration of Sam's voice as he moaned into his mouth.

Dean sat back and peeled his shirt off, tossing the offending garment behind his head. Sam managed to sit up enough to do the same, both of their bodies damp with sweat from both the heat and each other, skin sliding against skin as Dean leaned back down and kissed Sam again, his tongue mapping out every part of Sam's mouth, tracing over his teeth, tongue, gums – everywhere. Sam scooted them backwards more so that he wasn't hanging halfway off, Dean picking his lower half up to allow Sam to move. Sam could feel his erection pressed against Dean's, both of them long hard for each other. He reached down and tried to unclasp Dean's belt, the angle of the action made awkward by the way Dean was half laying, half sitting on him.

Dean complied and sat up, letting Sam undress him, reaching behind himself and taking his boots off. He heard Sam's sneakers drop to the floor with a clunk, allowing Dean to get his jeans off far easier. Sam sat up and kissed Dean as they stripped each other, finally managing to get down to just their underwear. Sam grabbed Dean's biceps and flipped them, holding Dean's arms above his head. Dean smiled and broke the kiss "What, you think you can get me on my back so easy?" Sam just smiled and bit down on Dean's earlobe, feeling Dean arch his back.

"Doesn't take much effort now, does it Dean?" Sam bit down on the skin of Dean's neck right under his ear, making Dean moan. "I don't know what the hell's…. shit do that again…. Gotten into you Sammy but FUCK." Sam had moved down and taken Dean's left nipple into his mouth, the bud hardening immediately. Sam moved so that he could reach down and palm Dean's thick cock through his underwear, Dean's hands moving up to hold Sam in place. Dean could feel himself leak precome, feeling the damp patch on his boxer briefs grow larger, not helped by the way Sam was rubbing him hard, both of them too far gone to care about how loud they were being.

Sam sank his teeth into the flesh of Dean's pec, moving his hand to catch in the waistband of Dean's underwear, his cock exposed to the air around them. Sam curled his hand around Dean, pumping him as his mouth worked on Dean's nipple, made more intense by the stickiness of the candy that Sam had been eating earlier. Dean tossed his head back, and swore, Sam playing him like an instrument. Eventually Sam came back up and kissed Dean on the mouth again, his own arousal seeping through the leg of his boxers, hot and wet against Dean's thigh. Sam pitted his tongue against Dean's, both of them fighting for control of the kiss. Dean felt his resistance go down when Sam reached down further and traced a ring around the rim of Dean's hole with his finger, making Dean arch his back again and break the kiss.

"That's cheating." It came out as a hot whisper, Dean spreading his legs wider and making no effort to stop Sam.

"You like it. Hell you _love _it." Sam peppered kisses across Dean's neck, each time his lips coming away and tasting like sweat.

"So what if I do?" Dean chewed his bottom lip, Sam slowly taking him apart with each touch.

"So what if it's not exactly what I had in mind." Without warning Sam got up off the bed and went over to his book bag, finding the bag of apple rings. He popped one in his mouth and came over to Dean, taking off his boxers and tugging Dean's off right after, both of them naked except for their socks, which Sam removed as well. He crawled up the bed and loomed over Dean, not coming down but remaining on his hands and knees as he kissed Dean, the ring of soft candy passing back and forth between them until it was completely pliable, just barely held together. Sam pulled back and murmured "Think you can get it around my cock Dean?" Dean looked up at him, the candy sticking of his mouth.

"Challenge accepted Sammy." He grabbed Sam by the shoulders and flipped him onto his back, miles of Sam underneath him – and all for him. He moved down the bed until his mouth was right over Sam's cock, precome beaded at the slit of it. Dean worked the candy ring in his mouth so that it was in between his lips, dipping his head and gently placing it on Sam's cock head.

Dean looked up at Sam as he rolled the ring (which broke in half within a second because Sam was so thick) down his shaft, letting the warmth of his mouth close over Sam very, very slowly. Sam's head sank into his pillows as Dean went down on him, tasting sweat and precome mingle with the sweetness of the candy in his mouth. Sam put his hands on Dean's shoulders, rubbing them as Dean opened his jaw as wide as he could and took Sam further into his mouth. He closed his eyes and began to move his head up and down on Sam's cock, his lips wet with spit and precome, making the slide of his mouth over Sam's length easier and easier. Dean had been sucking Sam's cock for a long time, and Sam had told him on more than one occasion that no one had ever done it better than Dean. Dean let that knowledge motivate him as he swirled his tongue over the thick vein that ran up the underside of Sam's cock, drawing a long release of precome from Sam.

Sam moved the hand he had on Dean's left shoulder and put it on the back of Dean's head, gently pressing down on him. Dean hummed as he felt the pressure, grinding himself against the sheets. Sam was half whispering curses, some in Latin, some in English, as Dean sucked him. Dean smiled because it was him making Sam feel like this – making his Sammy feel good.

Dean sucked him until the candy was but a sticky remnant that ran over the soft flesh of Sam's dick, pulling off of him and licking his way back up to Sam's mouth, letting the stickiness get everywhere, Sam not caring in the least – if anything, it meant he got to shower with Dean later. Sam moaned again as he felt Dean's cock brush against his as Dean settled in between his legs as he kissed him, letting Sam lick the taste of himself out of Dean's mouth and off his lips. Dean rutted against Sam, the friction delicious as he slid against Sam's sweat-damp skin, Sam responding in kind by holding onto the small of Dean's back.

Sam was the first to come – Dean had done a good job of stimulating him, getting him close to the point of release and then letting Sam go, feeling the warm slickness of his come against his stomach as Sam rode out his high between them, his mouth never leaving Dean's as he climaxed. Dean kept rubbing his back, feeling Sam relax against him, sated and happy.

Trouble was, Dean hadn't come yet.

Dean broke the kiss, Sam looking up at him, his face lit up in a contended smile. "Want me take care of you De?"

"Please?" Dean ran a hand through Sam's hair, watching it run through his fingers.

"Get on your back for me – your Sammy's gonna take good care of you." Dean slid off of him and Sam moved down in between his legs, copying Dean's position from earlier. He didn't touch Dean with his hands, just his tongue, licking Dean's cock like a popsicle, dragging his tongue over every inch of the velvet-smooth flesh, his spit mixing with the steady stream of precome pouring from Dean's slit. Dean looked down at Sam, his mouth hanging open as he tried to form words for Sam, trying to describe what he was feeling – nothing came to him except an audible gasp as Sam wrapped his fingers around Dean's shaft, his mouth closing over Dean's swollen cock head. He slowly pumped Dean as he bobbed his head up and down on him, humming around Dean as he blew him.

Dean felt his hips lift, trying to fuck up into Sam's warm, wet mouth. Sam let him, moving with Dean in perfect rhythm – this wasn't the first time he'd blown Dean like this, and he certainly hoped it wouldn't be the last. Sam didn't falter once, keeping up with Dean perfectly, sucking harder and softer in accordance with the grip that Dean has on his hair, guiding Sam in a language that only the two of them knew, a system of touches and caressed that they had perfected quite some time ago.

It wasn't much longer before Dean came, his come swallowed completely by Sam, his back bowed forward as stars exploded behind his eyes, Sam overwhelming his senses. Sam didn't let go until Dean had ridden through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his breathing heavy as Sam released his deflated cock from his mouth and sidled up next to Dean, laying his head over on Dean's shoulder, rubbing Dean's chest and stomach gently as they shared in their mutual bliss, not saying a word, content to listen to each other's breathing.

It was awhile before the comfortable silence was broken. "Still want to go out tonight De?" Sam's eyes were closed and he could feel drowsiness creeping in on him, warm and happy right where he was.

"Nah. Think I'm okay right here Sammy. This okay?"

"Mm. Love you Dean." Sam yawned wide, snuggling a little closer to Dean.

Dean bent his head and kissed Sam on the temple. "Love you too Sammy. Always."

Sam didn't even bother with blankets, already falling fast asleep.

. . .

They didn't go out that night, or the next three nights after that one, Dean wanting Sam to himself and Sam not having the least bit of a problem with that, perfectly happy to study in his suite where Dean could "distract" him every five minutes or so.

However, after three nights of staying in and not having much else to do aside from touch Sam, Sam could tell that Dean was getting restless. Besides, it was Dean's last night here and Sam wanted to make sure they left happy and not mad at each other for being in the other's personal space. Sam didn't have a lot of classes that week so he saw a lot of Dean and he could tell that it was time to go out.

Sam was busy toweling off from his shower after he'd gone for a run with Dean when he made the suggestion. "You said you wanted to go out three days ago and I'm starting to think you've forgotten."

Dean looked up at him from the couch, eying the way that the towel around Sam's waist clung tightly to his hips. ""I don't know Sammy, staying in's been pretty fucking awesome if you ask me." Dean set down the car magazine he'd picked up earlier that day and reached out for the edge of Sam's towel, Sam stepping back out of his reach.

Dean followed Sam to his bedroom, gently shutting the door behind him. "C'mon Dean, go get cleaned up. I've watched you pace a hole in the floor enough. You need beer and a pool cue – and don't say you don't, because I know you a little too well." Sam turned towards the small dresser and dropped the towel to the floor, searching for a pair of clean boxers, feeling the heat of Dean's body behind him. "Making it awfully hard to say no to staying right here Sammy."

Sam felt the warm press of lips against his neck, letting Dean have him for just a moment before turning and putting his hands on Dean's chest and gently pushing him away. "Seriously Dean – I'd like to see my friends and they want to meet you. You've made yourself antisocial around them all week and I have to keep putting them off. The least I can do is show my face for a while to make it up to them." Sam pulled on his underwear and reached for his deodorant, his eyes locked with Dean's as he raised his arms and applied it, waiting for an answer.

Dean gave a resigned slump and let out a sigh. "Fine. But if they get too chummy I'm getting the hell out – you're about the only college boy I can stand." Sam rolled his eyes and turned back away from Dean. "I'm meeting them in twenty minutes at the bar down the road – you have that long to get ready."

Not hearing any room in Sam's voice for argument, Dean picked up his shaving kit and headed for the bathroom, managing to grab Sam's ass on the way out of the door, Sam giving a small yelp of surprise and turning to chase Dean to the bathroom, Dean beating him and slamming the door shut.

"Jerk!" Sam called as he walked back to his bedroom.

"That you love!" Dean sounded awfully content with himself, causing Sam to utter a long-suffering sigh.

Not that he's trade it for anything else in the world.

. . .

The bar was relatively full, Sam's friends sitting in a large booth towards the back. Sam did spare Dean dragging him by the hand over to them, Dean instead opting to rest his hand on the small of Sam's back once they stopped in front of the crowded table. A chorus of greetings went up at them, Sam saying hello before turning to Dean. "Guys, this is my boyfriend Dean. Dean, this is Marian, Sara, Brad, and Sean." Dean eyed each one of them, giving Marian and Sara both a dazzling smile and lessening it when his eyes settled on the two males at the table, especially Sean with the way he kept trying to indiscreetly leer at Sam.

Sam sat down and made room for Dean. "C'mon Dean, have a seat. Plenty of room." Dean looked down at the floor and scratched the back of his head, a nervous gesture he'd picked up a long time ago. "I uh… I'm gonna go get a drink first." Dean walked away slowly, positive that Sam was rolling his eyes at him right now.

Sean waited until Dean was out of earshot before he spoke. "Boyfriend Sam? I don't know, you were awfully keen on sleeping with me not a week ago." The tone of his voice was like acid, and Sam knew right away he was mad at him.

"Yeah well… we made up Sean. It had been awhile since I'd seen him and we're on the same page now." Sam looked over to the bar where Dean was chatting up the bartender, an attractive redhead who Sam knew could resist even Dean Winchester's powerful charm. Sam knew it was all show, so he let himself smile at Dean's antics.

"Seems awfully interested in Linda over there Sam. Might want to go tell him to lay off of her." Sean took a sip of his beer and tried to put his hand in Sam's knee. Sam turned back to him and shoved his hand away. "Sean, stop it. You have no idea what it's like between me and him. We go way, way back." _From the moment he carried me out of our burning home, really._

Marian noticed the faraway look in Sam's eyes. "Hey Sam – we got you a drink. Want a sip?" Sam turned to her and smiled, Dean having made a beeline for the pool tables, sizing up two frat boys who looked like Dean could whip in a heartbeat.

"Yeah uh, thanks." Sam normally sipped water or soda since he could legally drink yet (not that he hadn't had alcohol before – he'd had his first beer with Dean on his seventeenth birthday.) He took it, catching a whiff of alcohol in amidst the fizziness of the Coke. "Marian, what's in this?"

Marian discretely pulled out a small flask of whiskey. "Figured you could do with a little surprise since we've hardly seen you all week. Tell us Sam – what's he like in bed?"

Sam took a long sip of his drink, suddenly remembering why he didn't drink whiskey that often. "I'm not gonna share that Marian, c'mon. That's between me and Dean."

Sean's hand found its way back to Sam's knee. "Bet I could do better Sam – probably has a small dick anyway." Sam felt his alcohol-warmed breath on the side of his neck and this time Sam shoved him away, forcing him into the corner of the booth. "I said knock it off Sean. Pull that shit again and I'll break your fucking jaw." Sam put as much menace into his tone as he could without raising his voice.

Sara chimed in after taking a sip of her daiquiri. "Sean, you're being an ass. If Sam doesn't want you to touch him, fucking stop it."

Sean rolled his eyes at her. "Shove it up your ass Sara – we all know Sam wants me. Seriously, I'm a dead ringer for the guy – look at him."

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "Yeah but you're not Dean and you never will be." Sam all of a sudden felt disgusted with himself for having even entertained the thought to begin with. He definitely wouldn't be rooming with Sean in the future either.

"I'd let you call me Dean if that'd make you spread your legs for me." Sean slid a hand up Sam's thigh towards his crotch and that's when Sam snapped. He got out of the booth and hauled Sean up to his feet, drawing back his right fist and hitting Sean in the jaw as hard as he could. Sean dropped to the floor, howling in pain. "I said don't fucking touch me. Only Dean's allowed to do that _and you are not him_."

By this time Dean had stopped his game of pool and came over to where Sam was standing over Sean, who was still clutching his jaw and looking up at Sam with venom in his eyes. Sam looked ready to pick him back up just to repeat the action before Dean stopped him. "Hey! Sam, that's enough." Sam lunged towards Sean and Dean pulled him backwards, pushing him away. "I said enough! Christ Sam, what the hell's wrong with you?"

Sam clenched his teeth and headed towards the door, the bar having gone silent as they watched the whole exchange. Dean called out as he followed Sam "Go back to your drinks – ain't nothing to see here." Dean made his way out the door, pushing past people coming in and finding Sam near the edge of the building, one arm crossed across his body and his face buried in one hand, his body shaking in the tell-tale manner of crying.

Dean came up to him and put his hands on Sam's shoulders and turned him around. "Want to tell me what the hell that was all about?"

Sam looked at him and wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking. "He's my roommate – I picked him because he kind of looked like you and thought maybe…. Maybe if I slept with him some of the hurt from missing you would go away."

"And did you?"

Sam shook his head and bit his lip, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. "I couldn't do it Dean. Couldn't do it because I knew you'd hate me for it. Couldn't do it because he wasn't you. I'm…. I'm sorry." Sam put his hand over his mouth to stifle the sobs that were threatening to spill out of his lips.

Dean stepped forward and put his arms around Sam, closing his eyes and whispering in his ear. "Nothing could make me hate you Sam, ever. You're too damned hard to hate – why do you think I love you so much?"

Sam picked his head up and looked at Dean, tears running from his eyes. "Because I'm your sap of a little brother?"

Dean smiled and wiped some of the tears away. "Because you're my Sammy and you always will be, no matter what. You hear that? MY Sammy." Dean pulled Sam's face towards his and kissed him, sliding his hands up so that they cupped Sam's face. He felt Sam's body relax and draw closer to his, Sam's arms encircling him.

They stood there for a long time, Dean pulling them backwards to the dark wall of the building, not letting go of Sam until they were breathless. Dean broke the kiss and said "You wanna get out of here?"

"You're not angry at me?" Sam's voice was hopeful.

"You didn't sleep with him and you decked the smug little shit – why would I be angry?"

Sam laughed for the first time in a good while. "Because that wasn't even the best punch I could have thrown."

"Hey, he'll be swollen enough in the morning – now c'mon. This is the last time I'm gonna see-"

"Don't say it Dean – I know. Let's just remember this." Sam took Dean's hand in his, leading them back towards campus.

Sam knew it was going to be rough saying farewell tomorrow, but he was determined to make it hurt less if it was the last thing he did.

. . .

The walk back to Sam's apartment took them awhile.

Dean didn't let go of Sam's hand the whole way, walking slowly, not leaving his side. Sam's residual anger at Sean slowly slipped away, instead replaced with affection for Dean. Sam wondered silently if Sean was even worth getting upset over.

He wasn't.

Sam was jolted out of his reverie by Dean's voice. "I can hear you thinking Sam."

Sam squeezed Dean's hand a little tighter and dipped his head. "Was I saying stuff out loud?"

"No, but you were being awfully quiet. That generally means you're pissed or thinking and since you aren't kicking the ground with every step…."

"You got me. I'm just…. I don't know, disappointed with myself. Sean's an idiot and he's not worth this much of my attention, especially when you're standing right next to me." Sam stopped them and turned to face Dean. "Just like you always have been." Sam reached up and brushed the side of Dean's face, smiling at him. Dean looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, his eyes dark green in that way they got when he wanted Sam. Sam dipped his head and kissed Dean on the mouth, closing his eyes and slowly easing into the kiss, not a worry in the world.

Dean linked his hands around Sam's waist, pulling him closer. He kissed Sam back with a slow passion that had been building since that morning, his tongue gently probing against Sam's lips. Sam opened his mouth and let Dean in, tasting the faint hint of beer on him. It mixed subtly with everything else that was Dean – the smell of leather, musk, and the cologne that Dean wore whenever he went out – it was everything that reminded Sam of home, safety.

Sam deepened the kiss, not wanting it to end. Dean let him, one hand coming up to slide into the hair on the back of Sam's head. Sam moaned softly as Dean gently tugged at the thick strands, signaling what he wanted from Sam. Sam kissed Dean for another moment or two and whispered "Want you."

"Me too Sammy – c'mon."

Sam was only too glad to follow.

. . .

By the time Sam's dorm was in sight, they were a little breathless.

They took the stairs up to the second floor where Sam's room was, it being closest to the ground since the first floor had no residential spaces on it. Sam practically dragged Dean up the stairs, the hallway leading to where Sam's room was seeming longer than normal. Sam fumbled for his keys, his impatience growing with each passing second because he needed Dean _now_ and a lock was getting in the way of letting him have that. It also didn't help that Dean had figured out that sliding his hands underneath Sam's shirt and dragging his fingers across Sam's skin was a fun thing to do, causing Sam all manner of unnecessary distraction, not that Sam was about to tell him to stop anyway.

Sam finally got the door open and pulled Dean inside, yanking out his keys and closing it shut behind him. They wasted no time in stripping each other, their clothes dropping to the floor in record time. Dean pushed Sam towards the bed, their eyes still locked with each other. Sam felt the backs of his legs connect with the mattress and he fell back on it, Dean coming down on top of him, their naked bodies sliding against each other, two forms made perfectly to fit against the other.

Dean kissed Sam until they were out of breath again, his voice hoarse with desire when he whispered against the shell of Sam's ear "Hands and knees baby boy." Sam gave him another brief, hard kiss and got up, turning so that he was facing the head of his bed and Dean was behind him. Sam licked his lips in anticipation, feeling the warmth of Dean's breath against his most intimate space, offering himself to Dean. There was precisely one person in this world he would ever do this for, and he was in the room with him now.

Dean kissed down Sam's back, every little brush of his lips sending sparks of pleasure down Sam's spine. Sam moaned, his voice pitching higher than before. Dean's mouth settled over Sam's hole, his hands on either side of it and spreading Sam wide. Sam had cleaned himself earlier for this, knowing that this was going to be the last time it happened for well… he didn't know. But Dean was here now, and nothing was going to stop him from enjoying it.

Dean didn't hesitate in the slightest as he began to open Sam up with his tongue, smelling soap and the hint of sweat, nothing unclean about Sam. They had been doing this together long enough to be ready for each other, both getting a great deal of pleasure out of both giving and receiving. Dean licked into Sam slow and deep, the taste of Sam on his tongue a privilege above everything else in his life. Sam dropped to his elbows, his groan of pleasure stifled by putting his face in the mattress. He felt his toes curl in response to Dean's tongue moving in and out of him, his cock hard and flat against his stomach, precome dripping to the bed.

Dean didn't let up for a long time, feeling Sam shake and shudder every time his tongue went in deeper, finding those places that only Dean knew about. By the time Dean stopped Sam was open and wet from spit, saliva running down the back of his thigh where Dean had pleasured him. Dean planted a kiss at the base of Sam's spine and got up, reaching for the lube that hadn't gone back in Sam's drawer since Dean had arrived.

Dean rubbed Sam's back as he lubed himself up, Sam still on his hands and knees. He took the remaining lube on his hand and put it on and around Sam's entrance, Sam giving a slight start as he felt the cold substance against his heated skin. Dean whispered "Easy does it Sammy" and worked it into him, his fingers steady as he made Sam ready for him.

It was to the point where it didn't even hurt anymore when Sam felt Dean enter him, just right and perfect. Dean held onto Sam's hips as he slid in, Sam dipping his head and moaning softly, Dean's thickness filling him and making him feel whole – there was nothing else like it in the world, and they both knew it. It had not once felt dirty, wrong, or bad, just inexplicably correct, as if it were meant to be this way. Sometimes Sam wondered if it was written in heaven that Dean was the only person he would ever love like this, and for all he knew, it was.

And Sam wouldn't have it any other way.

Dean made love (fucking sounded too crude for something as wonderful as this) to Sam for a long time, his hands all over Sam's body, halfway through changing positions and facing each other, Dean's hand around Sam's cock as he thrusted deep into Sam, their lips brushing against each other and eyes open, connected on so many levels that it felt like Dean was staring into Sam's very soul.

They came together, galaxies exploding behind their eyelids as pleasure overwhelmed them like a tsunami, crying out each other's names, Sam's fingernails digging into Dean's back as they rode it out together, their blood thundering in their ears. It took a long time for them to come down, so wrapped up in each other that the pleasure never seemed to end, just dull slightly as Dean finally moved and pulled out of Sam, his cock slick with lube and his own come.

Dean pulled on his boxers and went to wet a washcloth in the sink, coming back and cleaning them up with care, dropping it to the floor when they were both clean and settling in next to Sam, sliding his hand up Sam's chest and feeling his heartbeat slow, taking pleasure in the fact that he had made it quicken in the first place, knowing that he made his Sammy feel good.

Sam's voice was barely a whisper as he drifted off to sleep. "De?"

"Yeah baby boy?"

"Be here when I wake up in the morning?"

Dean smiled and pressed a kiss to Sam's chest. "Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Sam was happy as the warmth of sleep closed over him.

. . .

Dean knew it was going to be hard saying good bye to Sam again, but he didn't know it was going to hurt this bad. It was almost noon and they were outside next to the Impala, Dean loading his bag in the trunk and Sam leaning the hood, staring at the ground and trying his hardest to not look like a kicked puppy. John had called earlier that morning with a hunt down near the Mexican border, a string of murders that sounded like they were caused by a chupacabra.

Dean couldn't have cared less.

Dean closed the trunk and came over to stand in front of Sam, feeling tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "We both know that this wasn't going to be easy Sammy." He took Sam's hands in his and ran his thumbs over the tops of his knuckles. Sam nodded and sniffed, his eyes meeting Dean's. "Yeah." Sam felt a tear run down his cheek and closed his eyes, swallowing against the sick feeling in his throat.

Dean wanted nothing more than to stay right here with Sam, never wanting him to feel this hurt again. He knew deep down he couldn't, no more than he could ask Sam to come back with him.

"Sam…. Listen. I know…. I know that the last time we parted it was rough but this time…" Dean's voice cracked as he continued to speak "I don't want you to ever think I don't love you because baby boy, I do. So fucking much." Dean was crying now, his cheeks damp and red. Sam nodded and pulled Dean into a hug, his sobs muffled against Dean's shoulder. Dean held him, just like he always had and always would.

Sam stepped back after a while and wiped his eyes, a sad smile parting his lips. "Take care of yourself Dean."

"Promise I will Sammy. For you."

Sam leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Dean's lips, taking one last drink from the one constant that had always sustained him. "You better get your ass out here more than once in a blue moon."

Dean gave a short huff of laughter. "Every chance I get Sammy, I promise. And…. And I'll wait for you Sam. No one makes me feel like you do, and I mean that."

Sam closed his eyes and nodded again. "Me too Dean. Only ever yours."

Dean clasped him in a tight hug for a moment and then let go, because the longer he stayed the harder it would be to leave. Sam stepped aside and let Dean open the driver's door, already feeling the emptiness returning. He stood on the sidewalk as he watched Dean back out of the space and leave, watching the Impala until it was out of sight.

Sam went back up to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands and crying, his body shaking as he cried out all of the tears he had, stopping only when his eyes were swollen and his nose was red from wiping it. He went to the small kitchen and got himself a glass of water, taking it back to his room and laying down, staring up at the ceiling

He heard the crinkle of paper as his head hit his pillow, sitting up and reaching underneath it. It was a folded piece of notebook paper, the words "Open After I Leave" in Dean's handwriting across the front of it. Sam sat up more and unfolded it, his eyes moving as he read it:

_"Sammy,_

_ I know that goodbye is going to be hard – it always is, no matter what. But I'm going to talk with Dad about getting a place for me around the college. I didn't realize that ten months without seeing you would tear me up so bad, but it did. I can't live with that pain anymore. It hurts too damn much baby boy, and there's only one thing to stop it – you. So after this next hunt, I'll be seeing a lot more of you Sammy. Bout time I moved out front under Dad's roof anyway. _

_ Don't cry too much Sammy – you look better when you're nose isn't snotty._

_ De."_

Sam could have jumped over the moon, kissing the piece of paper and starting to whistle "On The Sunny Side of The Street."

And Dean held that promise, three weeks later knocking on Sam's door and saying "Mind if I come in?"

No, Sam didn't mind at all.


End file.
